


rest your bones next to me

by a_paper_crane



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: 7/11, Acting, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is Extra, Fake Dating, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Hot Chocolate, Huddling For Warmth, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Sweetheart, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Poverty, Runaway AU, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Stereotypes, Theft, Walking, bonding over being kicked out, but when is he not, janus and remus too but they arent main characters, like one does, like really they rob a goodwill, seriously they take a lot of walks get used to it, slurpees, unhinged roman and virgil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_paper_crane/pseuds/a_paper_crane
Summary: "Virgil, hey — buddy.  Are you okay?"Virgil laughed breathlessly, shook his head.  He managed to whimper a soft, "No."  Roman took another step towards him, but Virgil held his palms in front of him.  "No, I'll- I'll be fine.  I'm sorry."  His voice caught on every word"Do not apologize.  This isn't your fault."  Roman's tone was fierce as he placed his hands firmly on Virgil's shoulders.  He nodded shakily.(a rewrite of an old fic.  updates whenever i fucking feel like it)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45





	1. slurpee

_ Slurpee. _

The thought repeated in Virgil's mind as he stumbled down the sidewalk. He listened — he was glad for a direction that wasn't "anywhere but home." He had been walking for hours now, and he was thirsty anyway.

_ Slurpee. Slurpee. Slurpee. _

The tears didn't come as a surprise, but they were annoying nonetheless. He knew he couldn't really blame himself for crying, though. No reaction is too drastic for getting kicked out of home with nothing more than a tattered hoodie and less than twenty bucks. He stopped walking and sat down on the curb when he decided he was far enough away that he wouldn't spot his dad driving down the alleys in his beaten up truck.

He wasn't sure how long he spent crying, but he felt better when he was done. Sure, it didn't solve anything, but there was less pressure in his mind now. More room to think about what the fuck he was going to do.

_ Slurpee, _ his thoughts reminded him.

He obliged, picking back up and restarting the trek towards 7/11. It was close enough he wasn't worried about getting jumped or kidnapped or otherwise maimed. He had less than a block to go. Less than a block before the slurpee machine.

The neon sign hurt Virgil's eyes, but the pain came as a welcome comfort. The fluorescent lights overhead glowed blue as he yanked open the door.

The store was almost empty, save for the employee at the counter and a pair of boys arguing in the breakfast aisle.

"Oh my god, Remus, I have  _ four dollars.  _ I'm not buying you coffee. It's past midnight."

"Exactly! It's the best time for coffee!"

" _ No. _ "

Virgil laughed under his breath.

_ Slurpee _ , his mind insisted.

He picked up the smallest plastic cup. He was homeless now — even if he was buying a slurpee, he needed to be stingy about it. It didn't take him long before he decided on blue raspberry. It was his favorite when he was a kid, and he liked the way it stained his tongue. A voice interrupted him as he began walking towards the counter.

"Hey, you. Hey. Hoodie. What's your deal?"

He spun around to face the voice in question. Its owner had a thin moustache and sported an obnoxiously bright green denim jacket. Virgil wondered idly where he got it. 

"What?"

"I said, what's your deal?" 

A loud groan could be heard from somewhere behind the rolling hotdogs.

"Remus, what the fuck? I told you to be nice." Virgil suppressed a grin as the second voice emerged. The second boy was nearly identical to Remus save for his lack of a moustache. He was louder, too, demanding attention in a more pleasant manner than Remus.

"I'm Roman," he said, reaching out his hand. "I'm sorry about my brother."

Virgil shook his hand tentatively. It was clammy, almost cold. 

"Virgil."

"Hey, uh, if you don't mind me asking, have you been crying?"

Virgil shot him a look that he hoped read as  _ why-would-you-ask-a-stranger-that _ but he figured probably came across as  _ please-go-away _ , which was also okay.

"Yeah, why?"

At the same time Roman softly asked what happened, Remus announced, "Your face looks like a monkey's butt."

While he was only planning to glare at Remus, Virgil turned it upon Roman at the last minute.

"I got kicked out." Though he was aiming for a grumble, his voice came out as a whisper. "I got kicked out and my grandparents are all dead and my aunt lives in California. Are you happy now?"

The brothers exchanged a glance. Less of a glance, really, and more of a long stare. If Roman hadn't spoken, Virgil would've assumed they were having a telepathic argument.

"I'm so sorry."

Virgil, who didn't catch onto the shared sadness and the brothers' eyes, or spot the small tears in Roman's letterman jacket, or notice how choppily cut Remus's hair was, frowned. "You should be." He turned around and began stalking toward the register, sipping hard on his slurpee.

Remus called out. "Virgil, wait—"

"What more do you want from me? Do you want money?" Virgil fished a ten dollar bill from his pocket. "Take it. Just leave me alone."

Silence filled the store as they stood, Virgil with his arm outstretched, Roman and Remus side by side. Nobody moved until Remus croaked, "Us too."

Virgil's hand fell to his side as he gave a small, "Oh."

"Yeah." Roman took a careful step towards him, placed his hand on Virgil's arm. "Is it alright if I hug you? You kinda look like you need it."

Virgil paused, but nodded. Roman pulled him in, pressing Virgil's face into his shoulder. Remus joined the hug, slipping one arm around his back and the other behind Roman's neck. They stood like that, in the middle of the 7/11, for several minutes, waiting for Virgil to pull away. He didn't. At last, Remus got bored and decided he would buy himself the coffee he'd been asking Roman for. He slid from the side of the small pile, leaving Roman and Virgil still locked together. Roman pulled back just after Remus did.

"Come on, Virgil. We know a few people you can stick around with."

Virgil’s smile was watery — he was once again on the verge of tears. "Are you pawning me off on your friends?"

"No, of course not. They're what's kept us alive this long."

_ This long. _ An indeterminate amount of time, but a considerable one. Enough to trigger Virgil's sobs.

"Virgil, hey — buddy. Are you okay?"

Virgil laughed breathlessly, shook his head. He managed to whimper a soft, "No." Roman took another step towards him, but Virgil held his palms in front of him. "No, I'll- I'll be fine. I'm sorry." His voice caught on every word

"Do  _ not  _ apologize. This isn't your fault." Roman's tone was fierce as he placed his hands firmly on Virgil's shoulders. He nodded shakily.

"Yeah."

"It's gonna be alright." 

Virgil took a step back, out of Roman's grip. "I have to go pay for this." He held up the slurpee, now beginning to melt, and spun on his heel. Roman watched as he walked to the counter to pay, turning to Remus when Virgil smiled awkwardly at the cashier.

"I like him."

"I can't imagine why."

"He's ours now. Patton and Janus will love him."

"And Logan will…" Remus trailed off, waiting for Roman to give some justification as to why Logan would appreciate some boy he picked up in a 7/11.

"He'll live."

Virgil had started back towards the brothers, sipping loudly on his slurpee.

"Okay, so where are we going?"

Roman grinned. "Follow me."

"Wait! Let me buy this coffee first!" Remus ran to the register and slapped a bill down as Virgil and Roman smiled. "Okay," he said, cradling the drink close to his chest as he returned. "Let's head home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have mixed feelings about the title right now so it could change. also this is a rewrite of my (absolutely terrible) older work, nyc streets. updates will be sporadic but i hope to have another chapter up within the next two weeks and to actually finish it this time. what are your thoughts?? there isn't a hard set plot yet so i'm open to ideas but i do have a pretty clear end goal. thanks for reading!!


	2. apartment

With Roman and Remus at his sides, Virgil found navigating the desolate streets at night to be far less nerve-wracking. Roman took to rambling about the people they were headed to meet as Virgil and Remus sipped their drinks.

“Okay, so there’s Patton and Janus — they’re married. I probably ought to warn you, Janus has this big scar on his face from something that happened when he was a kid. He won’t tell us what exactly it’s from, but we think it’s a burn. Mostly just don’t make a big deal out of it, ‘cause he’ll kill you.”

“Learned that the hard way,” Remus mumbled. “He seems tough, but he’ll grow on you.”

“And then Patton is the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. If he had the money he’d take in every kid he meets. Their apartment doesn’t have heat, and there’s only one bedroom, and the stove is pretty shitty. It’s a roof over our heads, though, gives us somewhere to stay. They just ask that you contribute  _ something _ at least once a week.”

“So like, bring home dinner?” Virgil paused his slurping to glance up at Roman as they walked.

“Yeah! Or give ‘em some money to go towards rent, or buy some toilet paper. Just basic shit. Remus and I usually get some of the groceries. We work part-time at the theatre. Pay isn’t great, but it’s enough to stay with Patton and Janus and save for… whenever.”

“Tell him about Logan.”

“Oh! Logan’s seventeen, he’s lived with Pat and Jan for about two years now, his cousin is a friend of theirs. He was with them for their wedding, actually. He’s hoping to get into college on academic scholarships — he’s managed to stay in school this whole time. Remus and I dropped out when we started living on the streets. School just complicates things.”

“Wait, you guys don’t go to school? What about your parents?” Virgil paused to think, realizing he wouldn’t be able to attend classes without money for public transport — money he didn’t have.

“I think they told the school we moved or something. Or maybe that we got accepted into some private school.”

Remus shrugged. “ _ I  _ think they said we died, but  _ Roman  _ doesn’t believe me.”

“Oh my god. In  _ what  _ scenario would we both die, but not them? Murder-suicide?”

“Maybe.”

Virgil smiled. “It’s plausible. Which one of you killed the other?”

“ _ Oh my god. _ ”

Remus stopped walking so he could cackle properly, with Virgil just behind him. Roman stood, hands on hips, staring at them.

“That’s not even funny.”   
  


“It’s funny because you think it isn’t,” Virgil said. He had stopped laughing, but Remus was bent nearly in half on the sidewalk. Virgil had to admit, it really wasn’t that funny, but something about upsetting his brother had absolutely  _ killed  _ Remus. He wobbled, catching Virgil’s arm for balance.

“If you don’t hurry the fuck up, there  _ is  _ going to be a murder.”

This only prompted more howling. Roman covered his face with his hands as Virgil stared. He assumed it must have been a strange scene to the people in the car that drove by — half-illuminated by streetlights, they were a strange trio to spot in the early hours of the morning. At last, Roman reached down and pulled Remus up, then began walking. Virgil followed at their heels.

“So, how old are you guys?”

“Sixteen. We both got outed by some shithead on student council back in May. Needless to say, our parents weren’t too happy about it. What about you?”

“I’m sixteen too.” Virgil took a long swallow of his slurpee. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” Remus said. “Shit’s rough. Let us know if you do.”

“I will.”

As they lapsed into silence, Virgil noticed for the first time since he left his house how cold it really was. A gentle breeze nipped through the holes in his ratty jacket, and he realized he could feel his nose going numb. His fingers were already tinted a bright shade of pink, but he chalked that up to the ice in the slurpee. He wondered, if it was chilly enough to bother him in early October, how he was possibly going to survive winter.

Apparently sensing that he was starting to worry, Roman started talking again. “Okay, the apartment is right up here. It… does look kind of sketchy from the outside, but I promise it’s nicer inside.” Remus dug a keyring containing at least twenty keys from his pocket. He handed it to Roman, who found what was apparently the apartment key. Roman, with a smile on his face, handed it to Virgil. It was small, silver, and entirely nondescript, except for the letter “R” carved into the top. The engraving was messy, seemingly done out of boredom — Virgil assumed with a pocket knife.

“Pat let me unlock the door the first day we stayed here. He said it makes it feel more like normal, like you’re coming home after a long day. I figured I should pass it on. We’ll get you your own key sometime soon.”

Virgil tried to hide how strangely soft he suddenly felt, but it was apparent he failed when Roman slung an arm around his shoulders.

“I know it’s kind of a lot. I’m sorry. Really. It’s right up here, we can talk to Pat and Jan and then go to bed, okay? Some sleep’ll do you good.”

Overwhelmed, Virgil nodded. He had little time to process Roman’s words, as Remus skipped ahead with a smile on his face.

“We’re here!” He stopped in front of a large brick building, its white paint flaking off. A set of rusty metal stairs led to an off-white door on the second story, but Remus led them through the gate to the first floor entrance.

“I’m not sure how many people live above us, but they’ve gotta have at least three kids,” Roman whispered. “There’s no other explanation for how much fucking  _ noise  _ they make.” Virgil grinned. Hands shaking, he jammed the key in the lock and turned it. He opened the door gently, in case someone was asleep, though based on Roman’s words he assumed nobody was.

Virgil’s assumptions proved to be at least partially correct when a voice from the kitchen exclaimed, “Boys! You’re finally home!” Remus bounded inside, leaving Virgil and Roman standing in the doorway. Roman’s arm fell from Virgil’s shoulders and gave as he gave an awkward half-wave.

“This is Virgil. He got kicked out. Would it be okay if he stayed with us?”

The man, who Virgil assumed was Patton, melted by about a million degrees. “Oh, honey, of course. Stay as long as you need. Come on in, I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

Hesitantly, Virgil stepped into the apartment. Roman entered just after him, kicking off his shoes onto the tile floor of the kitchen. Virgil followed suit, then handed the ring of keys back to Remus, who had sat down on one of the mismatched chairs at the table. 

“Does anybody know if Logan is still awake? He was studying last time I saw him.”

“He went to bed about an hour ago,” said a new voice. Virgil spotted him suddenly, sitting in the corner of the room, a copy of some obscure book in his hands. Based on the large scar on his face, Virgil assumed him to be Janus. He nodded at Virgil, then resumed his reading.

“Roman, Remus, do you want some hot chocolate?” Both nodded, and Patton pulled another two mugs from the cabinet, making five total.

“I assume they told you the conditions?” asked Janus without looking up.

“Contribute something once a week?”

“You’ve got it!” 

Virgil sunk his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He had little to distract him without Roman at his side, leaving him to fall back into every nervous habit he had.

“Come sit,” said Remus, patting the chair next to him. Virgil spent the next ten minutes fielding questions from Patton and Janus —  _ what’s your last name, are you planning on going to school, do you have a job, how much stuff do you have with you, are you able to go home to get more _ . Jones, no, no, nothing, no. The mug of hot chocolate set in front of him came as a relief, as it gave him an excuse to stop talking.

“I’ll have Roman take you down to the Goodwill tomorrow,” Patton said, sitting down across from him. He glanced at Roman, who nodded, smiling. “That jacket of yours isn’t going to do much when winter comes. If you’d prefer it instead of a new one, though, pick up something to use as scrap fabric and we can mend it.”

Suddenly unwilling to even remove his hoodie, Virgil nodded. “Yeah,” He said softly, picking at a hole in the sleeve. “That sounds good.”

“I’m exhausted,” Roman announced. “Are you tired, Virgil?” His voice was just a bit too loud, and Virgil caught onto what he was doing — looking for a way to get him out of the room. He appreciated the effort.

“Dead on my feet,” he said as he stood. “Where am I sleeping?”

“The couch, if you want, but it’s got a bunch of springs poking through, the floor,  _ or  _ you can join the pile.” Roman gave a wicked grin.

“What’s the pile?” 

“There’s only room for one bed. You can figure it out.”

With only seconds of consideration, Virgil chose the floor. With a small nod, Roman led him into the next room. His voice was hushed when he spoke again.

“I know the bed situation is kind of weird. We’ve got an extra blanket, but it can get kind of cold on the floor, so I can, uh, sleep with you. If you want.” He scratched at the back of his neck, then turned to the closet in the corner. “It would be at least a  _ little _ less weird than cuddling with a bunch of guys you met five minutes ago.”

Virgil smiled at his back as he dug through the piles of clothes. “Roman, I met  _ you  _ like, an hour ago.” The boy in question sputtered indignantly. “But yeah. It  _ is  _ pretty chilly, so if you don’t mind the back pain tomorrow, that would be… fine.”

Roman nodded, almost enthusiastically, as he turned with a blanket in his arms. “Okay. I know there isn’t much room on the floor, but wherever you want.”

Virgil collapsed onto the beaten-down shag carpet, Roman close behind him. He spread the blanket over them then laid down, letting the exhaustion show through his bright facade for the first time.

“Do you just want me next to you for body heat or is it okay if I…?” Roman’s voice, barely a broken whisper, didn’t make it through the end of the question, but Virgil caught the idea anyway.

“It’s fine. I can pretend we’re star-crossed lovers or something instead of dealing with… this. And I trust you. Somehow.” He hoped Roman heard the joking tone in his voice, because his words, though true, felt far too vulnerable to share. Roman took them as an invitation and turned to pull Virgil to his chest.

It felt strange at first, but they quickly settled into an embrace. It kept the cold at bay, after all, so it was better than being alone. Virgil buried his face in the folds of Roman’s shirt, and Roman pressed his nose against Virgil’s hair. It carried the distinct overtones of romance, but it wasn’t something Virgil was eager to fight against. Despite the odds, he slept like the dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said two weeks but i got excited. i'll say two weeks again but it'll probably be sooner.


	3. "shopping"

The floor was cold when Virgil woke up. The fall chill had seeped through the walls of the apartment overnight, and he realized with slight alarm that he was alone. Roman was no longer snoring next to him and the bed inches away was empty. He wondered, mind thick with sleep, what time it was, and what his parents were doing. It was a sore spot in his mind, but he poked at it anyways like it was a bad cavity — just to make sure it still hurt.

His back cracked when he stood. Virgil glanced around the room looking for a clock, but he could only judge by the sun through the window. It was probably past eight, at the least. He ventured into the kitchen, only to find it empty except for Roman, who sat at the table with a glass of water and the same book Janus had been reading last night.

“What time is it?” he asked, blinking away the last remains of grogginess. 

“Uh, 10:30-ish, I think. Patton left for work about two hours ago.”

“Don’t you have something to do? Why didn’t you wake me up?” Virgil sat down across from Roman, forcing him to put down the book.

“You deserve some sleep after everything. First night’s always the worst one.” Roman smiled gently, a knowing warmth in his eyes.

“So it does get better?” Virgil asked, voice soft. He traced the lines and chips of the table with his nail.

“It still hurts, but you kind of get used to it. You find ways to deal.” Virgil nodded. He spent a moment taking in the walls of the apartment, the old furniture, and chilly air. The idea of calling it home for a while didn’t hurt too much, if he had Roman there to fall asleep on the floor with him and say annoyingly reflective things. Roman broke the silence, finally. “Do you usually eat breakfast? Because none of us do, but I don’t want to suddenly cut your diet in half or anything, so I can make you coffee or some toast if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. Even if I did, it would be too late to eat, anyway.” Virgil stood and leaned against the chair. “Didn’t Patton say you were taking me shopping?”

Roman rose and began walking towards the door, and Virgil followed behind him. “Well, ‘shopping’ is a liberal word. Have you ever stolen anything before?”

Virgil shot him a concerned look as he opened the front door. “No? I mean, when I was a kid, but never intentionally.”

“Awesome! There’s a first time for everything—” Roman turned to wink at him “—and I’m glad to be here for yours.” 

“Shut up,” Virgil mumbled, feeling his face grow slightly hot. He fumbled for a way out. “Does Patton know about this?”

Roman grimaced. “Eh, sort of. He knows we do it, but he hates it, so he just doesn’t ask. It saves money, though, so he can’t really complain. I usually just tell him I’ve got enough cash with me.”

“What about Janus?” Virgil knew his attempts were futile, so he kept his gaze focused on the ground. 

“He’s proud of us. Logan and I have gotten pretty good at it, actually, and Janus thinks it’s great.” 

Virgil nodded, lips pursed. “Alright, then. What are we stealing?”

“Scrap fabric, basically. Something to patch your jacket with. Pat’s got a sewing kit at home, so we can fix it up pretty easy.” They stopped at a crosswalk, and Roman seized his opportunity. “You’re not from this part of the city, right?”

“No, my parents live North of here. We’ve been to Manhattan a few times, but we usually stayed out of the city. It was always too loud for my mom.”

“Okay,” Roman began, “So, the Goodwill we’re going to is about three blocks from here. The laundromat is four blocks in the opposite direction, and then one more is the dollar store where we buy groceries, and there’s a park I play guitar at a few streets behind the apartment. And then the theater Remus and I work at is a little past that.”

Virgil nodded. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to remember all that.”

“That’s alright,” Roman said with a chuckle. “You’ll pick it up. Plus, you’ve got me to guide you.” He threw an arm lazily around Virgil’s shoulders in a sort-of hug, but didn’t drop it until Virgil moved away. They made the rest of the trip in relative silence until Roman stopped them on the street corner just before the store. 

“Alright, here’s the plan,” he hissed. “We’re on a date, you find whatever you want, we pretend to make out in the fitting rooms, you tie it around your waist or something, and then we just… leave. It’s like acting. Are you ready?”

“Where the hell did you come up with this plan?”

“Sounds good, let’s go.”

Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand, swinging it a little as they walked. Roman’s grip was firm, probably to make sure he didn’t try to get out, but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to be bothered. It was kind of nice, really.

Roman started giggling before they were even inside the store. “This is going to be so fun!” he exclaimed, voice an octave higher than normal. 

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed, trying to mask his confusion. “I’m so excited.”

Roman dragged him to the t-shirts, where he dropped Virgil’s hand to sort through the racks. “You’re gonna look  _ so  _ cute after I give you a makeover, babe. What about this?” He held up a neon pink crop-top with a moustache on it. “ _ Very  _ 2012.”

“Uh… I think I’ll pass.” He busied himself with the array of bright colors in front of him.

“Wait! What about an oversized shirt? That would be  _ so  _ fab!” Roman reached for his hand again, then leaned in close to whisper. “Plus, it’s more fabric to work with.”

“Yeah, that sounds alright.” Virgil let himself be pulled along, again letting go of Roman’s hand to look through the rows of clothing.

They searched quietly for a moment before Virgil removed something from the rack. “What about this?”

He held a flannel, purple plaid and practically brand new. It was good quality, thick enough to be worn in winter.

“Oh, that’s  _ perfect! _ ” Roman said, undertones of his natural voice audible beneath the falsetto. “You’ll look so good.” He grinned, wide, and to Virgil it seemed genuine. “Come on,” he murmured.

They walked to the fitting rooms, Roman snickering and Virgil doing his best to play along. Roman tugged them into the last stall, where he sat down on the only chair. It was a tight fit, even with Virgil pressed against the wall.

“The hell is up with that voice?” Virgil asked, hushed. 

“Gay voice. You get more sympathy if you just go with their expectations. Give me that flannel.” Roman was back to speaking normally now, if more softly, and Virgil found a sort of peace in his gravelly whisper. He handed the garment over. Roman pulled a switchblade from his pocket and cut the tag.

“Okay, so I know not to make you mad,” Virgil said under his breath.

“It’s not for  _ people, _ it’s a tool.”

“You’re a tool.”

“Just take this,” Roman hissed, holding out the flannel. Virgil shed his jacket to put it on underneath. Roman stood, leaving only inches between them. He reached up and ran his hands through his hair a few times, then did the same to Virgil’s.

“Hold your breath,” Roman said. “It makes your face red.”

Virgil obliged, and Roman copied him, silently competing to see who could go the longest without taking a breath; Roman won by a few seconds.

“Are we good now?” Virgil asked.   
  
“Yeah.” Roman nodded. “Try to look giddy. In love. Whatever.” He gripped Virgil’s hand again and threw open the door, laughing breathlessly. Virgil pressed against his side as they walked, trying to make as much contact as he could. He smiled in his best attempt at shyness when they passed the cashier, and pressed the side of his head into Roman’s shoulder.

“Did you boys find everything?” The woman at the register beamed in a way that could only be fake.

“Yep, thanks so much!” Roman’s sickly sweet falsetto was back, and he threw up a hand in a wave. Virgil expected alarms to go off when they walked out the sliding doors, but none did. He looked up at Roman once they had left the vicinity of the store.

“Holy shit,” he said, “I can’t believe that worked.”

“It always does,” Roman said, almost wistfully. “What do you think?”

Virgil paused for a moment. “That was pretty fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!!! sorry for the months-long break in updates -- school kinda got to me. idk when the next update will be, so no promises. also. i am thinking about writing a future chapter (like far future, not anytime soon) based on hayloft by mother mother because it Will Not get out of my head, but instead of sex in a barn it's more "sorry we broke into your barn it's cold out here" idk tell me what you think. also ALSO here's a link to the playlist i made for these nerds: 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2itTduDBlBZAe3sGrBAoFN?si=cKydbdyFSRC5Lu_Xv2Fimg
> 
> ok!!! see yall again eventually


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